Sanctuary
by a-mild-looking-sky
Summary: After stopping for provisions on the isolated island of St Helena, a group of crew members go foraging. Starbuck finds he cannot leave Ahab and the ship, even now he has the chance.
1. Chapter 1 - The Island

**Sanctuary**

**Chapter 1 - The Island**

_St Helena, Atlantic Ocean_

The appearance of ships in Manati Bay was not an uncommon sight. Under the rule of the British East India Company, the island had been a lively centre of activity for over 150 years and had had some memorable visits by such men as Captain Cook and Napoleon, sent in his exile to the quiet, isolated beauty of the area.

But, in the early 1840s, after all the naval ships had ceased patrolling and the East India Company had passed control to the British Crown, the arrival of a strange vessel in the bay attracted the attention of both the inhabitants and occupiers. She was not a grand ship; her whole being seemed to strain and labour like some great weight was pressing down upon her, or maybe pulling her down by the keel. The sails caught the wind but when she anchored, they appeared to breathe a sigh of relief. Any person who saw her in the bay said to their partners that she was indeed odd, yet they whispered it as if by saying it louder would curse her even more than she already looked to be.

The name was unfamiliar too – not of a place they knew, or some superlative word to praise her, nor some notable man or woman, but the 'Pequod'. It had a bizarre air to it.

Two men came from her and began the lengthy walk through the rocks and hills to the British station overlooking the harbour. They were not so different from many men but they were of 'that ship' as she soon came to be known and so were greeted by captivated stares as they advanced along. Two officers in the trading post cast almost sneering gazes at them when they passed to go to headquarters.

''American whalemen,'' one said disapprovingly. The other chuckled.

''You can tell from just one look?''

''What other type of men would come to this godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere?''

They soon returned to the little building though and one of them pointed directly at it. The two officers within glanced at each other knowingly. ''Oh good Lord,'' they said. ''Hold on to your nose!''

But as they entered, the officers smiled in a fake show of hospitality and stood for them. ''Good afternoon, gentlemen,'' they greeted. The taller man returned their smile much more genuinely and shook their hands. The other man, shorter and with a pipe stuck in his mouth, stayed by the door, gazing intently at the maps on the wall like an Inspector General.

''Good afternoon to you, sirs,'' the first man said and ignored how the officers slyly wiped their hands on their trousers. ''Starbuck, first mate of the Nantucket whaleship Pequod, and my second mate, Mr Stubb.'' He turned and seeing Stubb studying the pictures on the wall, called him to his side. He smiled heartily without taking the pipe from his mouth and rigorously shook their hands, causing them afterwards to rub at their wrists. Stubb laughed.

''A firm grip is all a man needs!'' he said. Starbuck glanced sideways at him.

''You must excuse my partner, sirs. All his life at sea and I think he's quite forgotten how to act on land.''

''Ha ha, Mr Starbuck! There is no part of me that wants to act on land!''

The officers looked at each other then to hurry along the conversation, one asked, ''what can we do for you, sir?''

''I have been sent to procure some citrus fruits for the men. It appears we were somehow stocked with numbers below our quota. And Lord forbid if scurvy should break out because of it.''

''And between you and I – oh! If we haven't already had some share of bad luck!'' remarked Stubb.

''A ship stocked with too few citrus fruits?'' one of the officers asked with a strange element to his voice. ''It sounds a terrible oversight on someone's part – or maybe your ship's oddity stretches beyond her appearance.''

Starbuck looked at him as if he hadn't heard him correctly.

''I'm sure something can be arranged,'' continued his colleague.

''I only have American money,'' Starbuck said. ''I'm sure that will not be a problem?''

''Oh – no, sir.'' The officers looked at the money and held it gingerly as if it had been infected by some horrible substance. They quickly stored it away and one of them walked out of the back of the building after whispering something almost conspiratorially to his partner.

''Lieutenant Jones shall organise the provisions for you.''

''Thank you, sir.''

''…and if it is food you are here for, then St Helena's forests may provide you well – if your seamen are game for the hunt. If they can handle it.''

Stubb laughed. ''Oh, sir, maybe you did not hear Mr Starbuck, or perhaps you did not observe our ship rightly! We are whalemen, some of the best hunters out of all New Bedford! We are always game for the hunt! Sir, we live on it!''

''Mr Stubb,'' said Starbuck firmly to quiet him. He turned back to the still grinning officer. ''Sir, I believe if your men can handle such a hunt, then our men surely can.''

''Oh ho ho!'' Stubb chuckled approvingly. The grin disappeared from the man's face.

''Thank you, sir, for the information,'' Starbuck said evenly. ''I will return with some good men, collect our provisions and grasp your hunt by the tail. With our captain's permission.''

As they departed, Stubb had trouble controlling his joyous laughter and they again drew the attention of the people of the island. ''Oh, sir, bless your soul, it is one matter for me to insult such a man but quite another for a God-fearing fine man such as yourself to do so! Oh ha ha, did you see the look on his face? Ho ho, we certainly dashed the wind from his sails!''

Stubb continued his personal monologue, all the while chortling vigorously, until they reached the small village that had grown up around the shore. The Pequod was floating silently out on the water, so quietly one might have thought she was a ghost ship. The two men had not seen her in this way since the distant days of Nantucket and watching from her from the land had a profound effect. Starbuck thought it may have been her almost tangible sense of melancholy that had stopped Stubb's laughter. She was already old and weary and with the sun behind her, she appeared almost blackened with emotion. It was as if she was trembling, yet both of them knew it must have been the steady motion of the waves beneath her causing that illusion. Still, it was the first time she had paused and she seemed nigh on ready to break, maybe with fatigue or perhaps anticipation of what was to come after this brief sanctuary.

''What do you wager the captain will say to our stopping for the hunt?'' Stubb asked after some time of seemingly reverent silence. Starbuck found he had to look from the ship such was her quiet sadness.

''I do not know what he shall say,'' he said. ''Yet it would be –''

He could not find the words. It would be nice to stop? Pleasant? Relieving? Vital for the ship and her crew?

''I very much would welcome the pause, Mr Starbuck, if you allow me to say so. Despite what I said before to that dense man, it would be pleasing to feel the land again.''

Starbuck nodded but it was not the stability of the land he was thinking of. After a life on the water, the decks of a ship felt far more even than the earthly ground. ''I will make my best case, Mr Stubb,'' he said. Stubb's laughter returned.

''Oh ho, Mr Starbuck, if the calling of the waves should ever cease for you, the courts would greet you warmly!''

Starbuck smiled distantly and together, they walked down to the softly lapping water.

TBC

* * *

**...so I decided to try a multi-chapter Moby Dick story. Because I couldn't resist! **

**I say this might be slightly lighter than the other two but ha, no, probably not. So don't hold me to that. Although I'll try to add some 'lighter' moments in. Try.**

**I'm not entirely sure how likely it would be that the Pequod would stop on its journey with Ahab quite as obsessed as he is, yet St Helena is (what I think) a credible choice to pause at for a couple of days. And citrus fruits, well, I guess that's pretty essential against scurvy. Anyway, sorry, okay, I'm done with the notes. Let's just say they stop...and this story is based on what I think would happen/would like to happen aha! **

**Thank you all so much for the feedback on my Moby Dick fanfiction so far. You're all amazing! **


	2. Chapter 2 - Weighted Hulls

**Sanctuary**

**Chapter 2 – Weighted Hulls**

When they returned to the ship, Starbuck could almost feel the expectancy in the eyes of the crew. Since they had anchored in the harbour, the hectic life aboard had dwindled down to a few mundane duties and many of them appeared to not know how to occupy themselves. Most now sat upon the deck, playing cards or gazing up at the azure sky. It felt bizarre to be in such maritime surroundings but not to have the sensation of movement, only the gentle roll of the waves beneath the stationary hull.

Weaving through their legs to the door that led down to Ahab's cabin, Starbuck was again visited by the burden of responsibility. It had been a frequent visitor knocking on the doors of his mind and it pressed heavily upon him again to see their blank countenances. Good Lord, these men looked like they had had the souls sucked out of them! He had to chide himself for such a thought. Yet their stares – they made him feel undeniably uncomfortable, not obviously so, but enough to stir up some unease. He hurried to Ahab's cabin, hoping the old man would open his ears to him.

Captain Ahab was pouring over his meticulously detailed charts once more with them spread over the desk. Starbuck approached the open door tentatively, trying to make as little noise as the creaking planks would allow lest he interrupted him at the wrong moment. For a long while, he did not notice him, or chose not to pay heed to him, and remained engrossed in the world of black twisting lines on the paper. He must know them by heart now, Starbuck mused. It disturbed him.

''Captain,'' he said eventually, softly at first as if he did not trust his own voice. Ahab's fingers continued to run over the sheets. Behind his hunched figure, Starbuck became aware of something moving. He watched as the form turned and the cat-like eyes of Fedallah pierced him. He jolted involuntarily, restraining a surprised gasp, but at the disturbance, Ahab finally raised his head. Now two pairs of sharp eyes scrutinised him.

''Sir,'' he said, then regaining his composure – ''sir. I have successfully procured some provisions of fruit from the island stores. I shall take some men to collect them and bring them back to the ship.''

''Very good, Mr Starbuck.'' The charts again captured Ahab's attention. Yet Starbuck, appearing to have a dark weight hovering over him, lingered in the doorway, twisting his hands behind his back. He dwelt again on the faces of the men, the quiet struggle that had seemed to emanate from the ship, the forests of the island… The more he considered it, the more important a venture it became, not just for the necessity of the food.

But St Helena was but a bundle of lines on Ahab's maps, and none of these spoke of the white whale's capture. They had not strayed from the captain's mad course but they had paused on it and because of this lull, Starbuck imagined he could almost see the coil wound up inside Ahab. It twisted his already mauled expressions and added more darkness, more bleakness to the shadows falling over him.

''Is there more thou wishes to say, Mr Starbuck?'' His words broke Starbuck's reverie. He realised he had been staring contemplatively at the old man throughout his thoughts. Fedallah snaked past them out of the door, never once taking his eyes off him. He had an air around him that made Starbuck, not entirely unconsciously, shy away.

Ahab still watched him. He met his gaze for a moment then lowered it to the charts. ''Yes, sir,'' he said lowly, seriously. ''St Helena is home to a great forest. Mr Stubb and I were informed that we may reap a bountiful harvest if we take up the hunt –''

''Mr Starbuck, why dost thou turnest from me when speaking? Are thou so afraid me as to not look me in the eyes?''

The words stung Starbuck, rousing something deep inside of him. He lifted his head from gazing at the tangled lines on the charts and looked defiantly into those of Ahab's face. ''Sir, if we should make such an endeavour now, we will not disturb the heat of the future hunt.''

Ahab paused for a time that seemed longer than it actually was. Starbuck kept his gaze. ''Is the hunt on sea not enough for thee, Mr Starbuck?'' he said.

''Sir, the men deserve such a break. It shall be but two days.''

''I feel as though me and thee have uttered these words before, Mr Starbuck. We have ceased our voyage on thy own desire. Does that not satisfy thee?''

''It shall be but two days, sir.''

Ahab looked from Starbuck's imploring eyes back down to those terrible pages. Starbuck's heart once again sank. In the space behind him, he heard a low, quiet laugh and turning to leave, he saw the dark figure of Fedallah beneath the companion-way, only the white of his teeth and eyes visible through the gaps. He tried to pay him no heed as he ascended. But a voice soon drifted from below.

''Two days, Mr Starbuck.'' He stopped. ''And no more.''

Ahab was still tracing the lines. Starbuck watched him for a long, thoughtful moment, somewhat believing he had misheard the words. Before he could say anymore, he hurried back up onto the deck.

The crew immediately came to life at Stubb's words that spoke of a two-day long foraging mission. Like so many bees that had suddenly been shaken in their hive, they flitted about the deck and down to the cabins, gathering the necessary provisions for such a hunt. Many of them quickly became so eager that they did not regard any attempts at organisation and for the first time, they turned from a well-kept, tight group accustomed to taking and obeying orders into more of a rabble.

Starbuck did not have time to dwell on this observation, however, as this fever had spread infectiously to his fellow mates and they appeared to be in a frenzy to leave as soon as humanly possible, like it was absolutely indispensible to do so. He and Stubb fetched out the harpoons and the lances, weapons which, used by skilful hands could come to great use on land and sea. And under the watchful eye of Ahab, Starbuck procured two muskets. At the sight of them, Flask seemed to light up with some inner, savage glow. It made the first mate nigh on shudder to see such an abrupt, barbaric wave crash over them. Not even the raising of their first whale had produced such animality.

But Stubb still laughed. ''Oh Mr Starbuck!'' said he. ''Why must ye always look so down in the mouth? We are going a-hunting on the land of some wild island!''

Yes, savage they may be, Starbuck thought, but the most friendly kind of savages, surely. And 'tis by my doing to send them ashore. Let them wreak their momentarily free hearts upon the woods of St Helena!

And so they lowered the boats, weapons glistening in a primal show of strength, and away to the beaches they rowed, all the while singing merrily. Yet, in his serene quietude, Starbuck found he could not draw his eyes long from the ship as she floated silently behind them, still sending ripples under their weighted hulls.

**TBC**


End file.
